Chapter 18 - Marceline (Originally Published: 4 December 2015)

The sun peeked through the holes in its blanket of clouds, still nestled in bed before its daily routine. It stretched its rays, beams of white light making strides as they stroked the blue of the sky. Off on the horizon, bright orange wisps tickled the edge of the clouds, threatening to set the white pillows ablaze. Slowly, the sun arose to its duty.

Marceline wondered what it was like to be that old, to give a piece of herself to another being just as the sun gave the earth light and warmth, every day without complaint or respite from a lifelong rotation.

"There you are." Bonnie leaned over to look down at her.

Marceline stared up at her from her spot on the ground. "Here I am."

Bonnie laid down next to her, brrr-ing when she felt the cold earth underneath her. She took a moment to adjust herself, scooting closer to Marceline. "I miss you. We should do something this weekend. I propose… Dinner tomorrow night followed by a ton of board games, and then Sunday we can sleep in all day." She turned onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. "How does that sound?"

Marceline moved one of her hands from behind her head and cupped Bonnie's cheek, running her thumb gently across the soft skin. "I think that sounds really wonderful." The act was more forward than she'd ever been, but she'd been becoming more and more confident about their budding relationship since she'd come out. The admission of her sexuality had done nothing to steer Bonnie away, rather, she seemed more openly affectionate now. At one point, Marceline would have thought herself too optimistic, but those days had been wiped clean from her conscious memory by hand holding and full-bodied hugs.

"It's a date then," Bonnie said, quietly. "How's your-" She cleared her throat, speaking at a normal volume now. "How's your morning been?"

Marceline shrugged, letting her hand rest on her stomach. "Rubbish, really. Everything's been going wrong since I got out of bed. Kind of wish I hadn't."

"You would sleep in all day. You're like a vampire, Marceline." Bonnie smiled, and the dimples on either side of her mouth looked delightfully kissable. Marceline had to tear her eyes away, before her brain or her heart or whatever got any funny ideas.

"Oi! There they are!" came the loud, obnoxious voice of the second most oblivious person she knew.

Marceline sat up, squinting when she put herself directly in the path of one of the sun's rays. "Oh, bloody hell, it's you," she said, only half joking.

Bonnie sat up to greet the newcomers. Guy and Keila sat down in front of them. Bongo stood, watching them talk, until Bonnie reached up and tugged on his sleeve. He sat down next to her, their knees touching. It made Marceline irrationally jealous, but she wasn't going to say anything to him. Bongo was just being Bongo.

Guy scooted closer to Keila, curling up into a ball the best that he could. "It's fucking cold out, Marce. Why are you out here? I feel like my nipples are going to fall off."

"That isn't very polite," Bongo said, but as it often did, his quiet voice fell on deaf ears.

Surprisingly, Guy was otherwise on his best behaviour in front of Bonnie. The boy normally didn't have a filter at all, but other than the previous comment, his conversation topics were rather tame. Maybe he'd actually heard Bongo for once.

As nice as it was that he wasn't saying anything vulgar, Marceline couldn't tear her attention away from the conversation Bonnie and Bongo were having to themselves. She only caught every other word, unable to hear them over Guy's annoying voice. She caught Keila looking at her, and it didn't take words to say that she was bothered as well.

So it's not just all in my head then, is it?

Marceline knew it didn't matter either way. Even if Bongo did like Bonnie, he was too shy to make a move. That little bit of solace propelled her through the rest of her own conversation. When the bell rang, Guy and Keila took off to walk together. Bongo, it seemed, wanted to walk with the two girls.

Feeling panicked, Marceline took Bonnie's hand in her own as they walked, following their normal routine of walking to her music class first before parting. Thankfully, Bongo didn't stay to chat once they arrived at the classroom.

"So, tomorrow… Any idea where you want to eat? I'm paying," Marceline said.

Bonnie yawned in response, covering her mouth politely. "Sorry. I was up late studying. We can eat wherever you want to." She closed her eyes, struggling to stifle another yawn. "Nowhere too expensive though."

"You're worth it though." Realising what she'd just said, Marceline awkwardly patted Bonnie's shoulder. "Well, hey, if you can manage to tear yourself away from the exciting world of maths, maybe take a nap. I need you awake for second period. We have a lab today, remember?"

Bonnie nodded, smiling sleepily. "Be good today. Okay, Marcy?" She booped her on the nose before leaving for her own class.

A high-pitched whistle from down the hall stole her attention. Marceline caught a sudden cold chill when she spotted the source.

Leslie, the whistler no doubt, was standing outside of the dressing room entrance to the auditorium, grinning from ear to ear. The furrow of her brows made for malevolent undertones to the conventionally kind act. However, the feeling of lightheadedness came from the girl standing in front of her.

Phoebe took one long look at her before disappearing behind the auditorium doors.

They hadn't spoken since Halloween, despite Marceline's fervent attempts - every day for a fortnight - to apologise. It was beginning to look less likely that they would ever speak again.

The tardy bell rang, and Marceline waved a middle finger salute at Leslie on her way into class.

"Hey Keila, long time no see." She plopped down into the seat next to her friend, slinging an arm across the back of her chair.

"Har har, Marce, you're so funny." Keila glared at her, irritated with the bad jokes she'd been picking up from Bonnibel lately. Even Marceline was annoyed with herself, but it was so hard to stop once she'd started.

When she turned to look for the objective of the day on the chalkboard, all she could see was blond. "I swear, if this wanker doesn't get his head out of the way…"

Jake turned around. Marceline hadn't been having the best of days, and she was a hairpin trigger away from baring her fangs.

"Oh, sorry." Jake scooted his chair to the right as much as he could without invading his neighbour's personal space. "Is that better?"

"Yeah." She stared dumbly. "Thanks." He smiled, and there was something… apologetic in the way he looked at her.

Probably just sorry for always being an arsehole, even after I apologised.

Something bothered her though. It was too out of character for Jake to just give in so easily. Where was his wit? His stubborn fire?

And what was with that sad smile?

"Marceline? May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Uh… Yeah. Sure, Aeryn." She followed the other girl's lead out of the history room, walking away from her friends to a quieter, more secluded spot down the hall. "We're always meeting like this." Marceline laughed nervously.

Aeryn stood with her hands clasped in front of her, looking up at Marceline with an unreadable expression. She crinkled her nose and reached into her pocket, pulling out a folded up index card. "Here." Marceline took it, undoing the creases. "It's my phone number. I want you to call me if you ever need anything at all. No matter what time it is," Aeryn said.

"No offence, but we haven't really talked much since we were kids. Where's this coming from?"

Aeryn looked down and away, nervously changing the subject. "We had fun though, didn't we? Do you remember Bonnie's seventh birthday party? You ate so much cake at my house that you got sick. I thought you were dying though, and we didn't want to get in trouble, so Bonnie and I loaded you up on that red wagon and dragged you halfway across town before anyone found us."

Marceline laughed out loud. "I don't think that was really as fun for me as it was for you two. Although, it was actually rather amusing when you guys would put makeup on me and mess with my hair."

A small smile slid across Aeryn's face. "Your father was so angry at us for that awful haircut we gave you." At the realisation of what she said, her face swiftly changed from nostalgic glee to unmitigated horror.

Marceline put a hand up. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not sad anymore. It happens. People die. I mean, I still miss him, but I'm not going to break down every time someone mentions my dad."

Aeryn nodded. "So, anyway. I'll let you get to lunch. Your friends are probably waiting for you. Just remember that you can call me at any time, okay?"

"I'll be in touch."

When Marceline returned, a confused Guy and Bongo exchanged glances before looking at her again.

"What was that about?" Guy asked. "Did she tell you anything?"

"She just wanted to give me her number in case I ever needed to get a hold of her." Marceline shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone's been acting kind of weird today."

Bongo rubbed the back of his neck. "That's… odd. You know, why don't we head to lunch already? Are we going to the gym?"

Guy held his phone up. "Keila texted me during class. She says there's something going on in there, so I just told her to meet us in my dad's room."

That reminded Marceline to check her own messages. She'd been keeping her phone on silent since Earle's warning to her back when she and Finn had been friends. During school hours she rarely received messages at all, but she just hoped for something from Phoebe. Some kind of indication that they were going to be okay.

There was nothing.

Sighing, she put her phone away and followed the boys to Mr. Carson's science class.

Keila was already waiting for them, sitting behind the big desk at the front of the room with her feet propped up on a stack of folders. She was asleep.

"I'm going to scare her awake," Guy said, excited. He got down, close to the ground and sneaked towards her.

When he was about to jump up and scream, she smacked him lightly on the cheek. "You'll have to do better than that, love."

Marceline chucked. Keila was not easily frightened, and no matter how hard Guy tried to get to her, it never worked in his favour. One time, he hid behind the sofa at Ash's house for two hours to scare her. When she finally went to fetch something from the kitchen Guy jumped up and waved his hands in the air, shrieking in some invented dialect, but she just shook her head and walked past him.

The metal legs of the school desks made a dull screech as Marceline pushed them together. If she was going to spend an entire lunch period in here, she wanted to be as comfortable as possible. When she'd made a long enough arrangement of desks, she climbed onto it and laid down.

Bongo poked his head out into the hallway. "Are you sure we're not going to get in trouble for being in here?"

"Relax, mate." Guy clapped both hands over his shoulders and pulled him away from the door. "This is my dad's classroom. Long as we don't go mucking things up, no one's going to care."

Marceline watched them from her makeshift bed. "If we get in trouble it'll be entirely because you keep sticking your head out."

Bongo hummed thoughtfully and sat down in one of the nearby desks.

Keila had grown bored watching her boyfriend and his best friend go back and forth. She pulled her sunglasses from where they nestled atop her head and invested her interest in wiping the smudge marks from the lenses. "Do you think Mr. Bones could use some cool shades?" she asked, wandering over to the anatomical display in the front corner of the room. Keila slid her sunglasses onto its face. "Oop!" she shouted, scrambling to grab them as they immediately fell off without her support.

Marceline snorted, finding amusement in the spectacle. Keila had to know that wouldn't work. Skeletons don't have ears. Or a nose. She went to Carson's desk and rummaged around in the mess of papers for a tape dispenser. "Here. This might help," she said, tearing four little rectangular bits from the roll.

Keila put the glasses back on the skeleton and held them in place for Marceline to attach the adhesive strips to them. "He's looking fit, yeah?" She chuckled. "Guy ought to be careful. Mr. Bones might just sweep me off my feet."

Marceline pushed the rolling stand forward a little and squeezed in behind it. She put her hands over the skeleton's arms and lifted them up, pantomiming an actual persona for the teaching aid. "Oh, Ms. Harrison! I didn't see you there - because I have no eyes, you see. Lovely day we're having."

Keila shook her head, smiling. "Innit? I was just discussing with my cohorts how handsome you are with those new glasses of yours."

Marceline made the skeleton put a hand over its mouth. In a deep voice she said, "Oh, what a lovely sentiment. I must say you're looking hot as fuck yourself."

The other girl laughed that time. She put both of her hands on her cheeks and kicked one leg behind her. "I'm swooning!"

"Why don't you go out with him instead?" Guy blurted, bitterly.

Keila laughed again and sauntered over to where he stood. "Somebody's jealous. Of a toy." She put her hand on his forehead. "What's wrong, love? You're looking green. I'm no doctor, but I have a remedy for that." She left sloppy, uncoordinated kisses all over his face. It was apparent that he was trying not to laugh, trying to make his grumpy look all the more grumpy, but Keila blew a raspberry on his cheek and he burst into laughter.

"Gross, K!" He wiped the slobber off his face and wrapped his arms around her so that she couldn't escape his revenge raspberries.

Marceline cringed. "Couples are so grody." She picked up the skeleton's arms again. "Hey Bongo." When he looked she made it dance, singing purposely off-key, "I walk around like a skeleton last night, trying to find my way home."

He smiled. "I wish I could remember what band that was."

Marceline slid out from behind Mr. Bones and pushed him back into place. "Uh… I can't think of it off the top of my head. The Won- no, that's not it. Uh…" She sat in the desk next to him, reclining back so that her legs stuck out into the aisle in front of her. "The singer has a really distinct voice and I listen to them all the time, but I can't recall the name right now for some reason."

Bongo stared at the floor for a long time, his mouth twitching as musicians ran through his head. "Ugh, I don't know. My brain's fried."

"Oh, why's that?"

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just out late last night."

"Staying out late? And you've been too busy to hang out all week?" Marceline grinned, nudging his arm. "What is it? Have you got a secret girlfriend or something?"

"Uh, no." Keila came to stand in front of both of them. She narrowed her eyes at Bongo, putting her hands on her hips. "If he had a secret girlfriend, I'm sure I would be the first to hear about it. Isn't that right?"

Bongo cleared his throat. "Yeah. I don't though." He looked away, unable to hold his own under Keila's intense scrutiny.

"The Front Bottoms! That's the band," Marceline said, partially trying to soothe away the awkwardness and partially smug for finally remembering the name. The other two didn't seem to hear her though. They remained frozen in this inarticulate standoff.

"Okay. Well, this is awkward. We've only got five minutes left, so I'm going to go to class." Marceline grabbed her bag off the floor and walked out. She wasn't sure what was going on today. Everyone was being weird, her friends included.

Feeling around her pockets, she found her phone and rang Bonnie. After a few conversational formalities, they arranged to meet next to Bonnie's locker.

It wasn't enough time to talk, but Marceline looked for any excuse she could find to see Bonnibel throughout the day. They met briefly, thankfully with no unwelcome spectators this time, and went on to their own classes.

Marceline didn't have anyone she was close to in her literature class, so when she walked in she was met with no familiar faces. She went about the boring class as she always did, first dropping off her homework in the tray stationed at the front of the room, and then taking her seat for however long she was stuck in there.

Today, they'd been handed out exams - a multiple choice selection worksheet with a writing prompt on the back. She hated it, yet she was the first one done. For someone with her marks in literature class, that was never a good sign. Almost as soon as she'd returned to her seat, she was called upon.

"Abadeer. Come here, please." Mrs. Jefferson looked at her over the lens of her thin glasses.

I knew it. I only just turned in the exam and I've already failed it.

Taking a deep breath, Marceline rose to her feet, trying to ignore the looks she received as she walked over to the teacher's desk. "Yes?"

Mrs. Jefferson spoke just above a whisper. "Your writing is quite good, Marceline. I don't know why you were so reluctant to show up to my class before. Bless Earle for getting you in here though. This-" she shook the paper she was holding, "is really fantastic."

She shrugged. "I don't think my writing is all that great."

"Try not to doubt yourself. Other than the grammar, this is perfect. You've got a poet's heart." She handed back Marceline's homework from the other night. "Keep up the good work, Abadeer."

"Thanks." She'd never been praised by a teacher before. Perhaps this nice feeling was the reason Bonnie and Keila tried so hard in school. Sitting down, she glanced over the countless circles and notes that'd been jotted down in red ink. She realised that her grammar wasn't just bad, it was atrocious, but not a single negative note was made about her writing itself. This new sense of pride made her almost want to try harder in literature class. She tucked her paper away in her backpack and put her head down for the rest of the period.

Noah shook her awake when class was over with. She thanked him and mentally prepared herself for the inevitable drama that was maths. Unless, of course, everything would be different in there as it had been everywhere else that day.

Not only had her friends been acting rather unlike themselves, but her teachers also seemed to be picking up on whatever it was she couldn't sense. Marceline mulled over the strange occurrences in her head, paying very little attention to the real world other than being sure not to run into anyone.

Her trip to class had been a complete daze, until her thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful voice. "Hey Marcy!"

She looked up, surprised to see Bea. "Oh, hey! Is Finn not with you?"

Bea shook their head. "No, not yet. He had to go to the WC." They sat down in the seat in front of Marceline.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I know Finn told Bonnie that he was going to be less of a jerk, but…"

"If he says anything mean I'll swat him!" Bea said, demonstrating by flopping their sleeves this way and that.

Marceline reached over and mussed up Bea's hair. "You're adorable."

"How's your hand?" Bea asked, taking her hand off their head to examine it for the cut she'd received and reopened a dozen times. "It's fully healed now," they said, happily.

"Probably would have healed faster if I'd listened to Bonnibel in the first place."

"Hey Bea." Finn sat down in the seat next to them, acknowledging Marceline only with a tight lipped nod.

Well, at least we're not actually fighting.

She watched the two of them talk while she collected her thoughts. Did this day mark a new milestone in all of her relationships? It appeared as though the Mertens brothers were getting closer to giving her another chance, taking cautious steps as an animal might when it wants to investigate something potentially dangerous. There was also Aeryn with her odd gesture, and Bonnibel with their upcoming 'date'.

"I think I might need glasses, but I'm not sure I'd look good in them," she'd heard Finn say when she zoned back into the conversation.

Bea tapped their chin thoughtfully, squinting their eyes while they examined Finn. "I think you could look rather cute in them."

"I think you'd look good with those thick rimmed boxy glasses. You know the ones I mean, yeah?" Marceline cut in.

Finn clamped his mouth shut and turned to look at her. He looked as if he might swear at her, but his mouth twitched and he smirked. "Are you sure I won't look like a dweeb?"

What the hell is happening?

Marceline chuckled, mostly just relieved that he hadn't freaked out over the comment. "No, I think it might be more charming than anything else." She winced, remembering how she'd led him astray a long, long time ago - when their world seemed a different place than it did now. They had been friends then, and he had been more gullible. "That's… real advice, this time. Sorry."

Finn pursed his lips, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I think you might be right. I'll give it a think."

Their conversation was cut short by the start of class, but it felt good to have some kind of positive interaction with him. At one point she'd thought of him as a good friend, and fighting over mistakes of the past proved more stress than it was worth.

Nearing the end of maths, a sudden painful pang struck her gut. Her last class of the day was also the only one she shared with Phoebe. It was a Friday, which also meant that Bongo had to once again face the moral dilemma regarding whether or not to pick the other girl for their team.

After all, he hadn't been the one who hurt her. It was all Marceline's fault, and she was certainly paying for it. Nothing could have prepared her enough to deal with Phoebe ignoring her. She'd seen other people get shot down when they'd attempted to talk to her, but being on the receiving end of Phoebe's… nothingness… was like hell.

There was no way she could get past Earle's omnipresent eye long enough to skip, and she wasn't really sure she wanted to see Phoebe and dampen her unusually good day. Eventually, she decided that the only solution was to sit this one out, so when maths class ended she hid out in the nurse's office feigning sickness until the end of the school day.

Keila had been acting rather odd since Marceline last saw her at lunch time. They'd been at the Harrison residence for an hour already, and the only interaction she'd received from her friend was distant. It put Marceline off, and she was irritated enough to consider hitching a ride home instead. She wanted to give Keila a few more jabs before she lost her temper entirely.

"I think I rather like staying in Carson's room for lunch. Do you think he'd care if we used it more often?"

Keila shrugged. "Probably not," she mumbled.

Marceline chewed her lip, peeling off a bit of dry skin between her teeth. "Finn spoke to me today. Briefly, of course, but he didn't throw another tantrum." She leaned back in Keila's desk chair, tired of watching her friend's stoic face for any sort of emotion. "Come to think of it, everyone's acting a bit off today."

"Weird."

Gritting her teeth, she racked her brain for anything that could elicit a proper response or, at this point, cheer herself up. "There was a lab in science today. I didn't really understand it, but we had to drop gummy bears into a test tube. I made a joke that we were sacrificing them to Zuul, but when we dropped ours into the thing it made this mental screeching sound. Bonnibel thought it was so funny, because neither of us knew that would happen, and she couldn't stop laughing. Carson had to make her go into the hall until she could calm down." Marceline smiled fully, thinking about it. "We're… going on a date tomorrow night. I'm… I think I have to tell her how I feel about her."

Keila jumped to her feet at that, her jaw clenching. "You can't!" There was something in the way she looked at her that gave Marceline a sorry feeling in the pit of her stomach. "You can't," Keila said again, quieter this time. "Listen, Marce. I only just found out today - why everyone's been acting strange… why Bongo's been unavailable lately."

Bile, and a crippling coldness.

Marceline tasted the remnants of her breakfast in the back of her throat. Her tongue felt thick and dry, yet it still somehow stuck to the roof of her mouth. Something was wrong, but her mind wouldn't process what it could be; her brain did nothing more than send warning signals throughout her body. She slowly got to her feet as well, too anxious and restless to stay seated.

"I'm so sorry, Marce. I wanted you to hear it from me first. I know it's going to be hard, but please… please don't freak out about this."

"What?" she managed to say, although the utterance itself seemed to take most of her energy. A second wind hit, however, and instead of fear and doubt she was filled with a sudden rage. "What?!"

Keila shrank back, her eyes going wide. She fumbled over her words, struggling to say what she needed to. "Bonnie and Bongo are… Well, they're-" Somewhere in the few seconds it took Keila to figure out what she was going to say, it clicked. It tore through her insides like an angry beast, ripping her stomach to shreds. Her feet began to move, leaving her brain leagues behind as it attempted to decipher what her body was now doing on its own. "Marceline!" Keila called after her, but she was already out the door.

No, no, no, no, no.

She didn't need to hear the whole thing, she didn't want to hear it. She just had to get away.

No, no, no, no, no! The words came fast and unyielding, blocking out any other thought. She had become deaf to the natural cadence of the world, her ears in tune only with the sound of her frantic heartbeat, the running pace of her footsteps, and her gatling denial. Her breathing was ragged and out of control, matching the flurry of her rapid thoughts.

The sky was riddled with tufts of grey cotton, leaving the landscape darker than its usual disposition for the time of day. Marceline knew what that meant, but right now - when she believed that all hope had been lost - she didn't care. Droplets of water hit her face, one by one at first, until it picked up its pace to keep up with her own. She wished that the rain would wash her away along with the dirt coating this town. A sharp needle of pain pushed through her ribs, making her breathing more strained. Marceline had been running for so long. Puddles of water splashed as she tromped through them, effectively soaking her clothes through. It didn't matter anymore. She was running - away from Keila, away from Bonnibel, away from everything.

The sky had been gradually getting darker. Whether it was due to a time lapse or the growing storm, she hadn't a clue, but it was too dark to see, until lightning struck, giving her a brief glimpse of where her feet had subconsciously brought her.

Of course.

Steeling herself, she walked up to the heavy oaken door and pounded on it. If she ignored the doorbell, maybe no one would hear her.

Of course I would try to numb the pain. Of course I would come here.

There was still time to turn around and run away again, but she was drained both physically and emotionally. It didn't matter anymore what happened to her. It didn't matter.

The door swung inwards revealing a woman that appeared to be in her early twenties. Marceline froze. In her frazzled state, she hadn't considered the possibility that a stranger would be the one to answer. The woman's clothing and the manner in which she carried herself were far too sophisticated for Marceline to process a proper greeting. Everything she could think to say seemed unworthy of this woman's time. She did, at least, have a guess at who this was.

"May I help you?" she asked, disdainfully.

"H-hi, ma'am," Marceline stammered. "Can I… uh, may I talk to your daughter, miss?"

The woman looked her up and down, grimacing at her filthy, soaked clothing. "Seems about right," she muttered. Marceline wanted to ask what she'd meant by that, but the woman walked over to the staircase leading upstairs and shouted, "Phoebe! You have a visitor!"

Marceline was going to hate herself for this, although she wasn't sure it mattered. Right now, she hated herself regardless.

When Phoebe saw her, a look of surprise flashed over her face, quickly replaced with cold indifference. She crossed her arms over her chest, not saying anything at all.

The ground shook with the incredible roar of thunder from behind Marceline, but she was too far gone to notice. "Can we talk?"

Phoebe exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. "We'll talk upstairs."

"Don't you think it would be appropriate to introduce this… friend of yours to your father?" The older Edan scoffed, never taking her eyes off of Marceline. "I'm sure he'd love to see what kind of company you keep."

"Oh, you're right, mother," Phoebe sneered. "How kind of you to be so considerate of anyone other than yourself." She shot Marceline a look that said to stay quiet and follow her.

Phoebe's father was tucked away in his own corner of the house - an office that Marceline hadn't noticed when she wandered through before. The room felt sterile, almost unreal. It had been lavishly decorated, somehow more so than the rest of the house, as if to show that the Edans only accepted the best. Marceline stood outside the doorway, her feet leaden with rainwater, mud, and the feeling of inferiority. She looked on as Phoebe approached her father.

Mr. Edan, a burly middle-aged man with cropped red hair, was seated in a large leather desk chair; his focus was on the contents of his computer monitor. If he'd noticed them come in, he paid no heed.

Phoebe cleared her throat. "Daddy, I wo-"

"What have I told you about interrupting me?" he asked, never looking in her direction. His voice was deep, powerfully commanding.

"I just wanted to-"

He waved his hand, dismissively. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

"Yes, sir." Turning around, she gave Marceline a sour look. "You wanted to talk. Let's talk." Phoebe pushed past her, walking with a determined haste.

Marceline followed, uncomfortable and feeling as if she'd seen something that was meant to stay behind closed doors.

When the lock to Phoebe's room clicked into place, she turned to face Marceline again. "What are you doing here?"

Between the chill of her drenched clothing and her shot nerves, Marceline could only shiver. She attempted to explain the reason for her arrival, but all that escaped her lips were mumbles and whimpers. Keila's discovery had been etched into her mind, resurfacing in full force when she least expected it. It whirred and screamed, making it harder to process anything. She eventually lost track of the sentences she'd tried to construct, words lost to the chattering of teeth.

Phoebe's features softened. "Did you walk here?"

She nodded.

Shaking her head, Phoebe stepped into her ensuite shower room to fetch a towel. She tossed it onto Marceline's head, blinding her for a moment while Phoebe dried her hair. "You're mental," she whispered, light-hearted.

When Phoebe moved the towel to address the back of her head, Marceline could see again. The sight of Phoebe so focused on her task - frustrated, yet endeared - reminded her of the reason she'd come here. "I want to be with you," she blurted.

Phoebe paused, her mouth dropping open ever so slightly. "What?" she asked, her voice small. It was the most vulnerable she'd ever sounded in Marceline's presence. Her eyes stared straight into Marceline's own, checking nervously for any hint of deception, of some cruel practical joke. If she'd been in her right mind, Marceline might have felt bad.

"I want to be with you, Phoebe," she said again, enunciating clearly.

The towel made a soft thud as it landed on the floor. Phoebe pulled her head down so that their lips could meet, but when Marceline pulled her closer, the small, timid kiss exploded with passion - all the built up frustration and desire that they'd both been trying to subdue came pouring out.

"I think you should get out of those wet clothes," Phoebe grumbled against her lips.

So Marceline did.